


Fantastic Beasts Fic Dump

by theanonymouslibrarians



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, M/M, Sexual Harassment, Torture, bigotry (I feel like this should go without saying if Grindelwald's a character), game of thrones crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2018-12-24 19:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theanonymouslibrarians/pseuds/theanonymouslibrarians
Summary: A dump of Fantastic Beasts fics that are either oneshots or incomplete or simply don't fit anywhere else.





	1. Sold

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Fantastic Beasts or Harry Potter. So this fic is going to be kind of a dump for Fantastic Beasts fics. Some connected, some not, some more like fragments. This particular chapter is born out of a desire for Game of Thrones crossovers with Fantastic Beasts to flood the fandom. Sadly, I cannot make others write them, so I’m writing one myself in hopes others will follow my lead.

Lord Percival Graves of Woolworth was fuming as he swung himself up on his horse. This was humiliating. Beyond that…it was degrading. And a betrayal. He’d never betrayed Seraphina even once. The two had grown up together, more like siblings than friends. When her father had died, Percival had stood by her side as a loyal bannerman of the House of Picquery, fighting against those who thought a woman couldn’t rule. And when Gellert Grindelwald had trapped Graves in his own dungeon and stole Percival’s face, Graves had fought as hard as he could, making Grindelwald get any information he needed by prying it from Graves’ mind. 

“I hope you have a safe journey.” Seraphina said. 

Percival just stared at her, standing next to him, surrounded by her guards. He wasn’t going to pretend to be fine with this. Only a week ago he would have been wary of treating her with disrespect. But that was before- 

“You’ll have to forgive Lord Graves, Lady Picquery.” Graves tensed as his new liege lord rode up next to him. “I’m afraid last time he was in my care I wasn’t always the kindest. No doubt he’s nervous.” 

Seraphina switched her gaze to Grindelwald. “And you’ll uphold you’re end of the treaty?” 

“My men are clearing out of Ilvermorny as we speak.” 

“Good.” She switched her gaze back to Percival, her eyes holding a softer look. “Percival-“ 

“Actually,” Grindelwald interrupted, “I’m afraid we’re rather pressed for time. Percival, I need you up at the front with me. Come along.” The dark wizard gestures towards the front of the army and urges his horse in that direction. 

Normally, Graves would have told the wizard exactly what he could do with that order, but Percival couldn’t stand to look at Seraphina any longer. He heard her call out to him but ignored her. She wasn’t his liege lady anymore; she gave up the right to any respect when she signed Percival (and consequently his lands) over to Grindelwald for peace. 

Gellert Grindelwald was silent until they reached the very front. “That’s better. I was rather annoyed that she showed up today at all. Weren’t you?” 

Actually, Graves was. Woolworth was still his (even if his liege lord had changed) and Seraphina now had no claim to any of his lands. How dare she show up after trading him to the man who had kept him prisoner for over a year? And without so much as sending word ahead. But Percival just shrugged, unwilling to let Grindelwald see how hurt and angry Percival is. 

“Well, don’t worry. You won’t need to see her for quite a while.” 

Graves glanced up at his castle as the army started to move. Woolworth had been his home for his entire life and now he’s being forced to leave it. Grindelwald had said he wanted his new bannerman at Nurmengard. He hadn’t said how long, let alone for what. Graves could always refuse to go. But he had no idea how Grindelwald would react and wasn’t anxious to test the man just yet. 

“Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from your home forever. We’ll be back soon enough. I just want you in Nurmengard for now.” 

Well, that was good at least (although Percival didn’t like the “we”). “How far away is it?” 

No one quite knew were Nurmengard was. No one besides Grindelwald, his soldiers, and those who had chosen to live under Grindelwald’s rule. Point-me spells led the casters into dangerous, often deadly, areas. Spies had been sent to follow Grindelwald’s army on several occasions, but few returned. The ones who did always went stark raving mad. 

About a week.” Grindelwald smirked at Graves’ surprised glance. Percival knew the surrounding areas like the back of his hand and no castle was anywhere near that close. Of course, they could be planning to apparate, but with the sheer amount of luggage and livestock they had to transport, that would be imprudent. “You’ll understand in time. Distance simply isn’t a problem we face.” 

Graves knew it was useless trying to extract more from the man. Grindelwald had been his only companion for over a year. Sometimes his visits had only been to gather information; the man had rifled through his mind, tearing down any walls Graves had tried to use to block him and leaving Percival a sobbing mess on his dungeon floor. Other times, though, Grindelwald had just stopped down to chat or share his meals with Graves. Percival knew that if Grindelwald wanted Graves to know more, he’d tell him and, until then, no amount of questions would reveal anything meaningful. 

Percival waited for Grindelwald to say something, anything, but after they’ve ridden about a quarter mile in silence, Percival decided to break it, “You said you needed me?” 

“I merely wanted the pleasure of your company. It’s so rare to have a wizard of your caliber to talk to.” 

Okay.” Graves wasn’t going to openly rebel against his new liege lord just yet. He knew he might have to; if Grindelwald ordered him to attack his allies or, God forbid, muggles, Percival would have no choice but to fight against the dark wizard. But Graves wasn’t going to simper and preen under Grindelwald’s compliments and pretend he was happy with the deal. “So, do you want to talk about what you’re doing?” Grindelwald glanced at him, eyebrow raised. “Why did you ask for Woolworth?” 

The corners of Grindelwald’s mouth twitched. “I missed your cook’s omelettes. And you.” 

“And?” 

“And it’s useful to have a castle so close to Macusa, especially one that’s nearly impregnable.” 

“Only you promised peace in exchange for my lands.” 

Grindelwald barked a laugh. “Is that what your dear Lady Picquery told you? No, darling. I promised I’d withdraw every last one of my followers from Ilvermorny and her lands in exchange for you as my bannerman. And I have. I never said I’d take my men out of my _own_ lands (and let’s agree, since you’re mine, they’re mine as well).” He paused, a grin spreading over his face as he looked at Percival, who could feel the blood draining from his own. “And withdrawing my army doesn’t mean never returning.” 

Suddenly, Graves’ mouth went dry and his stomach felt queasy. Surely Seraphina couldn’t have overlooked...she had to have some kind of contingency plan, in case Grindelwald broke the treaty…this wasn’t…she couldn’t… 

“Oh, and you should know that there are wards on you to prevent you from contacting anyone. And, of course, every single person in this camp knows to send for me if they see you trying to wander off.” 

Graves had figured as much, but that didn’t make having it confirmed any easier. “It doesn’t matter.” His voice sounded shaky even to him. “They’ll be expecting some type of double-cross.” 

“Probably.” Grindelwald agreed. “But Lady Picquery’s strongest bannerman is now mine.” 

“I won’t attack-“ 

“Of course you wouldn’t. But then I don’t need you to. I just need you unable to be of any help.” 

“The other lords and-“ 

“Are already wavering in their support after she sold you to me.” Grindelwald reached out and patted Graves on the shoulder. “I’m not the only one who’s fond of you. The Goldsteins, the Abernathys, the Scamanders…none of them is very pleased with Lady Picquery. The things they think I did to you… that I’m _doing_ to you…” He gave a mock shudder. “Well, I admit I encouraged the rumors, but you should count yourself lucky that rumors are all they are. Now, I doubt they’d-” 

“Stop.” Graves interrupted. “Please, just stop.” He couldn’t deal with this. It was all too much. First he had been betrayed by his oldest friend, sold to a man who had kept him prisoner, and now the same man was going to use Percival’s home as a way to conquer the wizarding kingdoms of Westeros… 

“Of course.” Grindelwald nodded, almost sympathetically. “I forget you’ve been discussing nothing but politics for several days. Let’s talk about something more cheerful. You’ve never been to Nurmengard before, have you? I think you’ll like your quarters. They’re much…” 

Graves barely heard him as he prattled on about things Percival couldn’t care less about. When had he lost complete control over his life? Probably, he reflected, the moment he met Gellert Grindelwald. 


	2. Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own Fantastic Beasts.

The leaky pipe that runs over Graves’ head drips another cold drop of water into the director’s hair. He’s long since stopped flinching at it, the cold being the least of Graves’ problems. He’s kneeling on a concrete floor, his arms stretched out to the sides and chained to the walls. A blindfold covers his eyes. Percival has no idea what happened to his shirt, but his back burns from the slices and whip marks his captors have left on him. 

He and a few of his team had been on a sting mission, only things had gone south. He has no idea where his team members are. He hopes at least one of them got away, but knows that’s a long shot. Graves knows that the only reason he’s alive is because he’ll make a valuable bargaining chip if the criminals holding him get in a tough spot. But that doesn’t mean he’s not just as valuable roughed up. And none of his captors, all with ties to the wizarding mafia, have any fond feelings for MACUSA. 

Graves hears the door opening and footsteps echo throughout the room, coming to stop right in front of him. He tenses, preparing for whatever curse he’ll be subjected to this time. He just hopes it’s not the man that- 

“Look at you. The _things_ that have been done to you. Tsk, tsk…I told you your job would get you into trouble.” 

Graves lets himself sag in relief. “Gellert...” 

He wasn’t often pleased that Gellert Grindelwald was his soulmate. Neither of them were. When Grindelwald had taken Graves hostage to impersonate him, the discovery had irked the dark wizard to no end. Oh, it hadn’t prevented him from treating Graves badly, but he’d been more mean than cruel. Graves had been grateful he wasn’t being tortured, but horrified at the new feelings. He couldn’t hate Grindelwald, no matter how much he tried. The man was like a brother to him, and Graves knew that, if it came to it, the most he’d be able to do would be to restrain Grindelwald, never kill or hurt him. After Grindelwald had been captured and Graves rescued, neither one had told anyone about their predicament and, when Grindelwald escaped, he’d fled the country. Graves hadn’t sought him out, absence dulling the bond. Now, though, Graves was relieved to hear his soulmate’s voice. 

“I knew you would be hurt, but _this_ …” There’s anger in Grindelwald’s voice. 

“Please untie me.” He whimpers, as fingers remove his blindfold. The light in the room is bright, and Graves needs to close his eyes. He’s lost track of how long he’s been in the dark. 

“Soon.” Grindelwald murmurs, walking around to study Graves’ back. 

Percival flinches as fingers brush against his wounds. “Soon?” 

He can’t hold back a sob now. He hasn’t cried in ages. He hadn’t when Grindelwald had stolen his face. He hadn’t when he’d woken up in this room to the feeling of whips lashing at his back. And he hadn’t when the one with the Brooklyn accent had forced his cock into his mouth, wand to his throat so Graves could do nothing but whatever the man wanted. But now, when his soulmate is there and refusing to untie him, the betrayal is too much and the tears come. Surely, he wouldn’t just _let_ Graves suffer. Even if neither of them wanted the bond, it was there. Grindelwald _had_ to… 

Gellert makes a soothing sound, and his fingers thread through Graves hair. “Shhh…it won’t be too much longer…” 

“I’ve been here for…I don’t know…at least a week. I can’t…please…” 

“I need to make sure that untying you won’t aggravate any wounds.” Grindelwald explains, and that makes Graves calm down a bit, but he can’t stop the tears from flowing. 

Grindelwald gently runs his hands over Graves’ back and Percival can feel the pain start to fade. The other wizard repeats his actions everywhere Graves has injuries, until the only pain is a dull ache, akin to exhaustion. Finally, Grindelwald comes to kneel in front of Graves and the chains disappear. Percival falls forward into Gellert’s arms, too weak to hold himself up. 

“It’s alright” Grindelwald croons. “You’re safe now.” 

“M-my team...” 

“We’ll take them with us. They could prove…useful.” Graves hopes that means that Grindelwald has already seen them, that they’re alive. 

“How did you know to come?”   
“You’ve been calling out to me for days. Or your subconscious has. It was…not pleasant. But it’s all over now. They’ll never hurt you again.” 

“The men who-“As if on cue, the door opens again. 

“Hey, who- “ 

Before Graves can even tense, the new arrival gives out a cry of pain, and there’s a thump. Grindelwald flicks his wand to the side, causing a couch to appear. He carries Grave over to it and sets him down gently. 

“Forgive me, Director. I’m afraid I didn’t deal with your kidnappers yet. I thought it would be best if I found you first. You wait right here and relax while I go take care of them.” 

Graves wants to protest, but he’s too tired. Instead he sags back into the cushions, closing his eyes. He smiles when the next scream reaches his ears. 


	3. Don't Touch the Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own Fantastic Beasts.

The first time Picquery asks Grindelwald where Graves is, he laughs in her face. They lock him up with only the bare necessities. That night, food appears in Graves’ cell instead of Grindelwald bringing it like he usually does. Graves considers himself well-rid of the man and eats the meal without thinking much of it. 

_“It’s not poisoned.” Grindelwald tells him as Graves stares at the plate. The sandwich looks delicious. The bread clearly of good quality. But the man who brought it in is a serial killer. “If I wanted to kill you, I’d do it in a much simpler way.”_

_Graves is starving; he has no idea how long he was out for, and he expended a good deal of energy in the duel, but he doesn’t trust his captor._

_“Here.” Grindelwald breaks off a piece of the sandwich and tosses it in his mouth, washing it down with a swig of Graves’ water. “See? I’m not dead.”_

_Percival’s mind can think of multiple explanations for that, ranging from Grindelwald hiding the food in his cheek to him taking the antidote before entering the cell. But ultimately, he decides that the simplest and most likely explanation is that the food is safe to eat. Tentatively, he picks up the sandwich._

The next morning, Picquery asks Grindelwald again. He tells her that Graves is in a safe place and that he’ll stay there until Grindelwald chooses to let him out. By that night, when food appears on its own for a third time, Graves’ knows something’s wrong. The past few months, no matter what new tests or…activities Grindelwald had for him, meal times remained the same. Grindelwald would bring him food twice a day, eat with him, and talk as if they were old friends before leaving Graves alone. Now, having not seen Grindelwald for over twenty four hours, Graves is on edge. A sudden change in a captor’s behavior is rarely good. 

_“I don’t understand.” Percival interrupts Grindelwald’s story about a gang of criminals who were attacking people using enchanted forks._

_“Well, I don’t either. I thought I was quite innovative in the way I took care of my enemies, but using cutlery-“_

_“No, I don’t understand what you’re doing here.”_

_Grindelwald raises a brow. “We’re eat-“_

_“That’s bullshit. You’re holding me prisoner and yet you come down here and prattle on about your day as if I’m your guest. What are you doing?”_

_“My dear director, you are my guest. An unwilling one, but my guest nonetheless. What type of host would I be if I didn’t keep you entertained?”_

The third morning of Grindelwald’s incarceration, they slip veritaserum into is food before questioning him. Grindelwald smiles at the president before telling her that Mr. Graves is right behind her and that he died once but got better. That night, Graves is severely unnerved. Breakfast and dinner have appeared as usual, but still no Grindelwald. He wonders if this is a ploy to get information from him without the legilimency or veritaserum or if maybe Grindelwald is just bored. It wouldn’t be the first time that Grindelwald has played with him. 

_“Here’s your wand.” Grindelwald smirks as Graves tries to use it to stun his captor. Well, it was a long shot anyway. “You won’t be able to escape, so don’t bother trying. But you’ll be able to cast sufficient spells to make it through the maze. Find your way out, Graves, and I’ll give you a reward. Something you want.”_

_“Anything?” They’re outside somewhere, but Graves doubts it’s anywhere near New York. The grass is too green and he thinks he’d know if there was a maze of stone walls anywhere in the vicinity of his work._

_“What nonsense you think of, darling! Of course not_ anything _. But something reasonable.”_

_There’s a roar from somewhere ahead, and something tells Graves that those aren’t birds chirping. “And if I refuse?”_

_“The maze entrance will close in five minutes. It won’t reopen until I tell it to. The only way out is through. You can always stay put, try to wait me out. But the lethifold will be released in a minute.”_

_It’s only half an hour later, after almost falling into a lake of fire, narrowly escaping a series of falling boulders, and almost being mauled by a yeti, that Percival realizes the truth. No matter how hot the air feels from the flames he just dodged, and no matter how loud the roar is, there’s no way Grindelwald could capture a dragon and keep it hidden. M.A.C.U.S.A would know if Grindelwald had managed to obtain property big enough for that._

_Even though everything in him screams at him to run, Graves forces himself to stand still as the dragon bears down on him. “I know this is an illusion! I don’t know how you did it, but this can’t be real!” He shouts, hoping he’s right and that whatever spell this is won’t simulate reality well enough for him to feel what it’s like to be burned or eaten alive._

_The dragon continues forwards and it’s almost on him when it and the surroundings vanish. Graves is back in his cell and Grindelwald’s standing next to him. The gash in his arm that Percival thought he’d received from a territorial wampus cat is gone and his clothes aren’t torn after all._

_His captor claps slowly. “Well, done. I expected you to make it to the end of the maze, but I didn’t think you’d see through the little charade. I think you deserve two rewards for that.”_

_Graves gets a trip outside, far away from any human settlement, and a stack of books to keep him entertained._

The fourth morning Madame Picquery has Grindelwald knocked unconscious so that the legilimens can search his mind. They are reduced to sobbing messes and afterwards can only repeat, “For the greater good... For the greater good…” over and over again. They need to be hospitalized. No food appears that day and Graves starts shouting, calling Grindelwald every name he can think of and making empty threats. 

_“You can torture me all you want, but I’m not going to tell you anything helpful.”_

_“Torture?” Grindelwald says in a tone of mock shock. “Mr. Graves, why would I torture you? I like you. You’re a powerful wizard. Despite our differences, I respect that. No, there’s simply no reason for torture.”_

_Suddenly, Graves can feel the other wizard’s mind pressed against his mental blocks, searching for a crack. Percival steels himself as Grindelwald starts to push. The pressure increases and Graves’ head starts to ache. Still, he resists, even when the pain becomes blinding._

_“I’m impressed, Director. But I will get through.”_

_And Graves knows that it’s only a matter of time until cracks start to appear. He’s better than most at occlumency, but Grindelwald is relentless and has the benefit of a wand. Graves gasps at a particularly vicious stab and shuts his eyes, focusing on the image of a steel wall, impenetrable. But it’s shaking. Graves knows that he can’t keep this up forever. Well, if Grindelwald wants memories, he’ll give them to him. Taking a deep breath, Percival dregs up images of the most horrific crimes he’s investigated and the memories of the worst pain he’s ever felt and pushes them forwards, towards Grindelwald._

_The man isn’t prepared for an attack. The pressure vanishes, and Grindelwald gives a cry of pain. Percival rushes forward, tackling Grindelwald to the ground, maintaining the mental attack. He punches the man in the jaw, the stomach, every available space he can find to incapacitate him, and then grabs his wand. He gets up and starts to cast a curse, but is thrown backwards, the wand flying from his hand._

_Grindelwald is still lying on the floor, but he’s laughing. “I knew you would be a handful, director. But I never expected this much trouble!”_

_Percival tries to rise, but only makes it to his knees before invisible hands press down on his shoulders, keeping him in place. Grindelwald rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself up off the floor. He gets up and walks over to Graves, looking down at him appraisingly. Graves is pleased to see the other wizard’s nose is bleeding. Grindelwald reaches out, cupping Graves’ chin in his hand and tilting his head backwards. Percival spits in his face, but Grindelwald just chuckles and wipes it off._

_“I think I’ll let you win this round.” Grindelwald tells him. “We’ll pick up again tomorrow.”_

On the fifth day, they offer Grindelwald extra privileges in exchange for the whereabouts of Percival Graves. He chuckles and tells them he won’t be there long enough to miss life’s little luxuries. Graves is panicking. He’s sure that Grindelwald’s decided he doesn’t need Graves anymore and has left him to die. He’s starving and thirsty and begins to wonder how many bugs it would take to sustain him and whether or not the cell he’s in has enough. 

_“So what are you going to do to me?” Graves asks Grindelwald one night during dinner.  
“Now? Things will continue as they are. I need you around for information. In the long run? Hmm…I haven’t decided.” _

_“Are you going to kill me?”_

_“I haven’t decided. I like you Mr. Graves. You make things…interesting.”_

_“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”_

_Grindelwald tilts his head to the side, looking at Graves as if debating how to respond. He takes a sip of his drink and leans back in his chair. “It means that it’s been a while since I’ve had a conversation with a wizard of your caliber and I’d hate to have to kill you.”_

_“Great. So my continued existence depends on keeping you entertained?”_

_“Don’t worry.” Grindelwald gives him what the man probably thinks is a reassuring smile. “If I find things seem to be getting a bit monotonous, I’m sure we can think of something to do.”_

The sixth morning, Grindelwald has a guard send for Madame Picquery before she can arrive. He tells her that Percival Graves can be found in the cellar of an old cabin on Long Island. She sends the aurors to find him, with instructions to use every caution, search for every possible curse or trap, certain that Grindelwald is lying. But they find Percival Graves, slightly bruised, hungry, and dehydrated, but alive. 

_It feels like it’s below freezing in his cell. Percival buries himself into the bed, pulling the covers over his head. Seconds later, he tosses them off, now too hot. He wants to get up, to try to find some way out, but he’s too weak to do much more than roll over. He knows it’s not the room; it’s him._

_Grave had woken up with a headache. He hadn’t been able to keep breakfast down, and as the day progressed, his muscles had started to ache and his temperature started fluctuating between fevers and chills. Despite being the type of person to go to work no matter what illness beset him, Percival has to admit that if he hadn’t been imprisoned he would have apparated to the nearest healer by now. Of course, that’s assuming Graves would have gotten sick if he wasn’t trapped in a cell, meals cut to twice a day, with no fresh air, and with a serial killer to subject him to what Grindelwald referred to as “games” whenever it suits the man. None of those, Graves imagines, are particularly conducive to his health._

_A loud crack sounds, heralding is captor’s arrival. Graves groans and buries his head deeper into the pillow. He can’t deal with Grindelwald. Not today. Not when he feels like he’s about to die._

_There are bangs and rustling sounds around the room and suddenly the temperature starts to increase. At first, Graves thinks it’s his illness, but then he hears the crackle of flames. He can smell food, too, and it makes his stomach churn._

_“Still in bed?” There’s the scraping of a chair, but somehow it sounds as if it’s being blasted in is ear. “It’s almost 7! I would have been home earlier, but-“_

_“Stop!” Percival whimpers. Every word Grindelwald says sounds like a shout and his head is throbbing._

_“Stop what? I’m not-“_

_“Talking! Please! It hurts!” Percival knows how pathetic he must sound, but can’t bring himself to feel shame._

_Grindelwald falls silent, but Graves can hear him walking towards him, each step sounding like thunder. The mattress dips as Grindelwald sits next to him, and fingers thread through Graves’ hair. “Black Cat Flu.”_

_Graves hears the voice in his mind and, while he knows he should tell the man to get out of his head, he’s too grateful that Grindelwald doesn’t say it aloud. It occurs to him that Grindelwald could use this opportunity to rifle through his mind, but he hasn’t yet._

_“You poor thing. You should really take better care of yourself. Get more fresh air.” Grindelwald thinks to him again. Graves tries to think of a clever response, but can’t._

_The mattress shifts again. “Something tells me that your stomach isn’t ready for pizza tonight. I have some potions in my suitcase. I’ll be back.”_

_Graves passes out after Grindelwald leaves. He’s not sure how long he sleeps or whether or not it’s a dream when the mattress dips and he’s gently pulled into someone’s lap. A spoon presses to his lips. Percival thinks there’s a reason he hasn’t eaten for a while, but now he drinks greedily, gulping down whatever is offered him._

_“That’s it.” A voice says in his mind. Graves thinks it sounds familiar, but can’t place it. “This’ll make you feel so much better.”_

_After that, Graves isn’t sure what happens. He either goes back to sleep or the dream shifts and all he’s aware of is an awful blackness, devoid of any light and quiet in an unnerving sort of way. There’s danger out there in the darkness, and Percival knows he has to move, has to get away or whatever is out there will swallow him up. But he can’t. It’s hopeless. He’ll never be free._

_“Why do you need freedom?” A voice says to him and arms pull him backwards so he’s resting against someone’s chest. Percival wants to twist out of the grip, but finds himself paralyzed. “Don’t you like it here? Where you don’t need to work or worry about whether or not you could have saved one more person if you’d just pushed a little harder? Don’t worry. You won’t get out. I’ll keep you nice and safe. My little toy.”_

….. 

Percival Graves takes a deep breath and opens his briefcase to make sure he has all the files he needs before sending his patronus to let the warden know he’s arrived. It’s been six months since M.A.C.U.S.A had found him and five since he’s been back to work. He hasn’t visited the prison in the ensuing months. There hasn’t been a reason to. Picquery interrogated Grindelwald herself in the month Percival was on medical leave, recovering from his captivity. Aurors from every wizarding country had come. They’d sent the best legilimens, used every truth serum in existence, and Grindelwald had still managed to keep his secrets. But every day last week a different body had turned up. No Majs of different ages and genders. All with Grindelwald’s sign burned into their backs. The last one had been dropped on the doorstep of the Woolworth building. There were no leads. 

Percival doubts Grindelwald will tell him anything. The man might not even _know_ anything. But if there’s even a chance Grindelwald knows something…if Graves can get even a hint…Graves can’t put off the visit any longer. 

“Director.” A guard opens the gate. “The warden sends his apologies, but there’s a rather unruly prisoner he’s dealing with. He’ll join you before you leave.” 

“That’s fine.” Graves says, stepping inside. “I’ll need to see Grindelwald right away.” 

“Of course.” The guard leads him towards the building. They pause at the entrance. “I’ll need to see your credentials.” 

Graves hands them over along with his wand. They’re put through the usual scans and then handed back to him. They step inside, only to be greeted by another guard. Both are subjected to a number of spells designed to counteract any concealment charms or potions before being ushered through another door. Finally, both are asked to cast the patronus charm. 

Percival is glad to see they’re following procedures, but can’t help feel that it’s not enough. He doesn’t have a good reason for this feeling; there hasn’t been a breakout from this prison in decades and Grindelwald is still in his cell when Graves is led to see him. It’s a sparse chamber. A cot and a toilet with glass in front of it. Graves knows there are multiple shield charms on the glass and the wall. But Percival still feels as if the dark wizard could easily breakout if he chose. 

A chair’s been set out for him, and Graves takes it, determined to show Grindelwald that he’s at ease (even though Percival is a wreck inside). “Mr. Grindelwald.” Graves nods. 

Grindelwald is lying down on his cot and turns to face him. “Come now, Percival. We’re old friends! You can call me Gellert.” 

“Do you know why I’m here?” Graves asks, unlocking his brief case. 

“I’m assuming to catch up, and I must say it’s about-“ 

“I’m here about these.” Graves cuts him off, levitating photos of the victims in front of the glass. 

Grindelwald’s eyes widen and he sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the cot. Graves has to force himself not to flinch at the movement. Even locked up, Grindelwald practically oozes danger. “That _is_ interesting. But, as you know, I’ve been locked in here.” His eyes scan Graves from head to toe and he frowns. “You’ve lost weight. Haven’t they been feeding you? You know when you were-“ 

“The bodies have your mark on them.” 

“Yes, I can see that. But I’m sure you realize that I couldn’t have killed them.” Grindelwald lifts his hands, palms upwards, on either side of him, turning his head from side to side. “I’ve been here for the past six months. The only visitors I’m allowed are government officials and prison guards.” He pouts. “It’s not a very _nice_ prison. Yours was much larger and the food was considerably better.” 

Graves sighs and leans back in his chair. He’s not going to play games with the man unless heh as something useful to give Graves. “You have followers at large. Some in America.” 

“Do I?” 

“Who are they?” 

Grindelwald guffaws. “Come now, Percival. Your colleagues have asked me these questions. I didn’t tell them anything. I’m not interested in discussing this. Why don’t you tell me how you’ve been? It’s been simply ages! I thought you’d stop by now and then but-“ 

“I don’t have time for this.” Percival snaps and rises to his feet. “If you don’t have anything helpful to say my time’s better spent elsewhere.” He turns and raises a hand to knock on the door for a guard. 

“I didn’t say I can’t help you!” 

Graves smiles at the note of panic in Grindelwald’s voice, but makes sure his face is a scowl before turning back to face the other man. Grindelwald is standing now and there’s anxiety in his features. 

“I only said I wasn’t _interested_ in discussing it. But, of course,” Grindelwald puts on an indulgent smile, “I will for _you_ , darling. _You’re_ not your colleagues.” 

“Okay.” Graves returns to his seat and leans back in what he hopes is a confident posture. “What do you know?” 

The other man tuts. “Come now, that’s not how this is done. I have something you want. You need to give me something I want.” 

“So what do you want? Newspapers? Exercise time?” 

“Not quite. I want you to answer certain…questions and do some things for me. For everything you answer or do, I’ll give you information about the murderer. 

“You know I can’t-“ 

“Nothing against regulations, of course.” Grindelwald says quickly. “Just some things I’m curious about. And of course you can stop at any time.” 

Graves bit his lip, trying to read the other man’s face. Grindelwald just looked back at him placidly, his face unreadable. “Let me hear the first question.” 

Grindelwald beams. “Excellent! What did eat for breakfast this morning?”   
“What?” Graves eyes narrow. He had expected a personal question, but not one as inane as this. 

“I’m sorry, is that classified?” 

“A piece of toast.” Graves sighs. 

“That’s not very nutritious. You-“ 

“Now it’s your turn. Who am I looking for?”   
“A man.” 

Graves had guessed as much; most female serial killers were decidedly less violent. “You’ll need to give me more than that.” 

“And I will…Why haven’t you been to see me sooner?” 

Percival gives a humorless laugh. “Do you really need to ask that?” Grindelwald doesn’t reply and it’s clear that he wants a longer answer. “Because you held me hostage for months and I wasn’t in a hurry to spend any more time with you.” 

“Hmmm, I treated you well enough. You-“ 

“What’s the man’s name?” Graves interrupts. If Grindelwald wants a conversation, Percival isn’t going to be drawn in easily, especially not one about his captivity. He’s already relived every moment for the president, foreign ambassadors, and numerous healers. He’s not going to do so for the man that put him through that. 

The other man looks amused. “No, I don’t think I’ll give you that just yet.” 

“You-“ 

“What I will tell you is that he lives in the Bronx and he’s not one of mine...but I know who he is.” 

Percival jots the information down. “Where in the Bronx?” 

“He doesn’t have a set residence. Moves around a lot. What about my treatment of you was so horrible that you couldn’t bear to even show up at my trial?” 

“I never said I couldn’t bear it. Just that I didn’t want to see you.” Graves pauses. “The fact that you stole my face? That you held me captive? Slipped veritaserum into my food when you couldn’t get thinks from my mind? Put me through hell whenever you were bored? Take your pick.” 

Grindelwald rolls his eyes. “Hell! I never put you in actual danger. I just-“ 

“If he moves around, how can I find him?” 

“You’ll need to lean on some of the owners of less than legal nightclubs in the area. Muggle ones, as well as wizarding. They won’t tell you anything at first, but if you have aurors begin to frequent their bars, maybe arrest one or two patrons every other night, they’ll want you out of their business as soon as possible.” 

“What do I ask them?”   
“Were you surprised when your team came for you? Did you think I’d left you to die?” 

“That’s two questions.” Graves says. 

“And that’s not an answer.” 

“I want two answers in return.” 

“But of course.” 

“Yes, and yes. Now, what do I ask them?” 

Grindelwald gives a bark of laughter. “Oh, Director. Surely you realize that the less you tell me the less information you’ll get? Fine. If that’s all you have to say you can ask them if you’ve seen anything strange and if there are any people they know prejudiced against muggles.” 

In short, nothing Graves wouldn’t have asked anyway. “Yes.” Graves hissed through clenched teeth. “I was surprised. I thought you had left me to die. That you’d grown bored with me and that I was going to die of starvation. When I heard you’d told them where I was, with nothing in return, I couldn’t understand why.” It’s the one question Graves could never think of an answer to. 

“And that’s bothered you, hasn’t it?” 

Graves considers not answering. Insisting on more information first, but ultimately decides that doing so could result in Grindelwald withholding information. “Yes.” 

“I’ll tell you.” Grindelwald says earnestly, stepping forward and placing a hand on the glass. He looks immensely satisfied. “Just put your hand on the glass. Right over mine.” 

“I can’t-“ 

“Please, Director. You have your wand. There are guards. What’s going to happen?” 

Nothing, Graves knows. There isn’t any danger in touching the glass. But he doesn’t want even this amount of contact with the man. 

“And,” Grindelwald adds, seeing Percival’s reticence, “I’ll throw in the man’s name for good measure.” 

Well, Graves can’t refuse now. Not if it means more people will die. And he’s sure that, if he refuses this, Grindelwald will hold back the name for days, maybe weeks, no matter what Graves tells him. 

“I want a description, too. And how he’s picking his victims.” Graves insists. “You owe me two pieces of information already.” 

“I haven’t forgotten.” Grindelwald gives him a cheshire grin. “You’ll learn another little secret, too. Just for being cooperative.” 

Percival feels uneasy as he rises to his feet, but forces himself to move forward. It’s such a small task, and it’ll be over soon. If Grindelwald keeps his word, they can stop the killings today. If Grindelwald lies…well, Graves will have a talk with the warden about punishments. Taking a deep breath, he lifts his hand and places it over Grindelwald’s…and flinches when he feels warm flesh instead of glass and sees the illusion drop. 

Graves’ wand flies across the room and he can feel the paralyzing jinx as Grindelwald pulls him forward into a parody of an embrace. “I let you be rescued because what use is a pet if it’s dead?” 


	4. Moral Relativity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't own Fantastic Beasts.

Graves shifted as much as he could, trying to get away from the man who was seated next to him on the couch. The binding curse prevented him from moving more than an a few centimeters, and that only back and forth. It was unusual for him to be bound in his own living room. The evenings were usually the only time Graves was allowed out of his cell, free to walk around whatever room Grindelwald was in. But, then, usually, Grindelwald could devote his entire attention to his prisoner, be ready to restrain Graves if Graves so much as looked like he was about to escape. 

The visit had been a surprise. An unwelcome one for both of them. Two of Grindelwald’s followers had dropped by the Graves’ mansion, interrupting the routine Graves had come to expect. 

Grindelwald had been furious. “I told you never to come here unless I summoned you!” He’d said in a cold, quiet voice that was worse than any shout. 

But apparently, whatever the men had needed was enough to cool Grindelwald’s wrath. The older of the two men was across the room, involved in what sounded like a heated discussion with Grindelwald. 

Graves had been magically restrained, unable to shift, presumably so Grindelwald could tend to this urgent matter. The younger of the two men had plopped down next to Graves leering at him. 

“Do you know who I am?” He asked. 

“Should I?” Graves returned. He supposed the man was some criminal he’d arrested or encountered, but he’d been an auror for over a decade and put away more dark wizards than he could keep track of. Surely, they didn’t expect him to remember each and every one of them? 

“November 10, 1914.” 

Graves waited for the man to continue, but he just stared at Percival, as if expecting it to come to him. “I’m guessing that date’s significant to you.” 

“It’s the date you gave testimony that sent me to prison.” 

“I suppose this is the part where you tell me you were innocent?” 

“No.” The man’s leer widened. “You know, you looked so confident that day. You don’t look so confident now.” 

“Yes.” Graves nodded. “Well, you see I’m kind of being held against my will, so…” 

The man gave a high-pitched laugh that left Percival in no doubt as to exactly how much sanity the man had. “Captivity suits you. Your lips look like they’d be good for begging. They’d also look good ar-“ The man let out a howl of pain as he was dragged off the couch by an invisible hand and forced to his knees in front of Graves. 

“Rutherford,” Grindelwald’s voice was soft, and he was still on the other side of the room, but somehow his words were perfectly clear, “I believe you owe Director Graves an apology.” 

“What?” Rutherford gasped, clutching at his stomach, face screwed up in pain. “I was just-“ He let out another scream, this one louder and this time clutched at his mouth. He was sobbing now, tears pouring down his cheeks. 

Graves couldn’t see what had happened, but there was blood dripping down the man’s chin and the director had a feeling that he was better off not knowing. 

“Now!” Grindelwald ordered. “While you still have a tongue.” 

“ ‘m ‘owee, ‘m owee.” Rutherford stammered through his fingers. 

“Hmm…” Grindelwald tapped his wand against his chin. “I don’t know if I believe him. Do you, Director?” 

Percival swallowed, unable to put his thoughts into words. “I…” 

“Me neither. I-“ 

“Yes!” Graves managed to get out. “I believe him.” No matter what Rutherford was, he’d more than paid for them. 

Grindelwald chuckled and walked over to stand behind Graves, patting him on the shoulder the way one might pet a puppy after it had learned a new trick. “So kind. Very well, Axel,” He turned to Rutherford’s companion, who was standing horror struck, “we’ll finish our discussion tomorrow. I think you’ll need to help Rutherford home, don’t you?” 

Axel pulled himself together. “Yes. Of course. Yes.” He hurried over and grabbed the man under the arm, hoisting him up. 

“Best disapparate. I don’t want you seen. And don’t come here again unless I ask you to.” Grindelwald said, walking around to drop into a chair across from Graves. 

“I apologize for that.” Grindelwald said after the two had left. “They weren’t supposed to-“ 

“What did you do to him?” Graves made himself ask. 

“Broke a few ribs. Dislodged a few teeth. Made his tongue break out in boils. Of course,” he assured Percival, “had it been more than words I would have done worse. He had no right to talk to you like that. Are you alright? If you need anything…” 

_Now_ , Percival thought, _while he’s in a charitable mood._ “You realize you’re not that different from him, right?” This would probably get him killed, but anything he could do to sway Grindelwald from his course of action would be worth it. Graves had long ago made peace that he’d either be killed or kept as the man’s prisoner for a very long time. 

Grindelwald looked affronted. “Excuse me! I’d never rape or-“ 

“Gunther Slipknot. Ivan Krum. Mindy Cooper.” 

“I don’t know who those people are, but-“   
“They’re people you killed.” Graves had to work to keep his tone even. 

“I’ve told you. I only kill when people-“ 

“Stand in your way? Stop you from enslaving No-Majs?” 

The other man bared his teeth. “Enslave. You make it sound like I’d be mistreating them! All they’d need to do is what they usually do, but acknowledge wizards as their rightful rulers! Magic would be used for their benefit as well!” 

“Only those that didn’t want to would be…killed, I presume?”   
“Every great movement has had its victims. The casualties of war!” 

“And what makes them inferior?” Graves shook his head. “You know Gunther’s wife was pregnant with their first child? His death caused her so much shock that she lost the baby. Ivan had a family. A wife and two sons. Mindy-“ 

“You’ve made your point.” Grindelwald interrupted, and Graves was pleased to see he looked uneasy. 

“Did you even talk to the families? I have. The loss of their loved ones have traumatized them. You speak of the greater good, but what-“ 

Grindelwald sighed. “Do you think muggles haven’t caused losses? That they’re innocent?” 

“Of course not. But I wasn’t arguing that they were. Only that you don’t have the moral high ground if you kill everyone who opposes you.” 

“I haven’t killed you.” 

“Because I’m useful to you. If I stop being-“ 

“Because you’re useful and I like you. You’re an intelligent man. Surely you realize that the victors always end up hurting those who oppose them. How many wizards and witches are imprisoned by M.A.C.U.S.A for using magic in public? Are their families any less traumatized by the loss of them?” Grindelwald shook his head. “It’s the way of the world, Director Graves. The strong overpower the weak and rule. Dragons kill deer and bear and, well lots of different creatures. Lions kill gazelles. If your ancestor hadn’t helped form M.A.C.U.S.A, criminals would run amok; certain people need to be brought to heel. But wizarding governments have ceased to protect wizards and instead force them to hide. It’s time to retake the power wizards have lost. Yes, some will need to die. But afterwards, the strong and the weak will live together in harmony.” 

“As long as the weak keep quiet. If you’re alright with the strong killing the weak, though, you’ll be fine if a stronger wizard comes along and defeats you.” 

Grindelwald gave him a pitying look. “Director Graves, I’ve only met one wizard who _might_ be stronger than I, and he’s busied himself with teaching children. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” 


	5. Fool Them Twice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts, or any of their characters.

 

When Percival Graves came back from medical leave, he knew something was wrong. But his suspicions weren't confirmed until he cornered the 'president' in her office and she smiled in a way she never had before and said in a tone the real Seraphina would never have used, "Well, done, Director. But no one is going to believe you. The most wanted wizard in the world having the audacity to impersonate the president of M.A.C.U.S.A? They'll think you're being paranoid! Now, just relax. I think you'll find this new arrangement isn't so bad after all. It restores you to your rightful place: at my side."

"You mean under your thumb."

Grindelwald shrugged. "I fail to see the difference."


End file.
